


The Night Renly's Supposed to Die

by renlybaratheon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renlybaratheon/pseuds/renlybaratheon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Stannis regretted the thought of allowing his little brother, Renly, to die? What if he changed his mind? A one-shot of Stannis Baratheon's regrets. (please be gentle. k thanks)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Renly's Supposed to Die

Stannis had just seen Melisandre and Davos off. He watched the boat disappear in the mist rolling over the water's surface. It was calming to him not having to see them continue rowing towards the shore. It meant he could avoid the confrontation of what he had done until it was over, and the guilt would be mixed with a strange form of relief.

 

Davos was a good man for going without asking about the situation. Anyone else, no matter how loyal they were, would have asked many questions. He trusted Davos the most - with all his life - and trusted he could carry the weight of what they were about to do. Melisandre was going to kill Renly.

 

The sentence ate at him as if he just thought 'Melisandre is going to kill Davos'. He didn't _love_ his brother. No. Impossible. He was not the child he once loved. Renly was no longer the child who ran around Storm's End claiming he was a wizard, his laugh echoing down hallways and his smile bright in the sun. He was a foolish man; one who didn't understand the rights of inheritance and thought that playing king was easy and wouldn't bend the knee to anyone. He had his woman soldier and his ridiculously named Rainbow Guard and those Tyrells, but he had no intelligence, no sense of honor, and no sense of war. All his time with Robert only rotted his brain. All his time with that Tyrell boy.

 

Outside his cabin room, Stannis could hear whispers from his men. He crossed the room to listen, acting like a child himself this night. He couldn't help it when he was about to become the last true Baratheon. He had his daughter, but beyond her... He would be last. It created a new ache in his chest like he had eaten too much. He clutched his shirtfront as he heard his men discuss the chill. Their boring chatter was not good enough for distraction. He could try to rest, but the thought of something going wrong kept him wide-awake.

 

Stannis began to wonder when the boat would arrive to shore, and Melisandre would do what was needed to be done for his claim to the throne to be that much more legitimate and closer. He remembered what she said just before she left.

 

"The Lord of the Light shines on us this night," she said. "The night's sky is bright with his wisdom and blessing. Do not feel anything for that man, Stannis." She gently touched his chin before Davos arrived. There was a time he didn't allow her to do such acts, but tonight he wasn't himself - not completely.

 

He peered out his window at the waves beyond, small and subtle but enough to still sway the ship. He used to wonder why the Greyjoys prayed to a god that claimed you as you drowned. The thought of their god swept him up as he stared at the water; his eyes losing focus and the water's rhythmic pull hypnotizing. It was enough to contain him and his thoughts for a while longer. The sea was as much his home as Dragonstone, now, perhaps even more so at times. If he could win the rest of the war at sea, he would do it.

 

There was nothing like the sea. For years he wondered what was so wonderful or intriguing enough to claim the livelihood of many men, and now he knew.

 

The thought of war shifted to thinking of death. With death, came the thought of tonight. Tonight would be Renly's demise. Suddenly the waves proved worthless in their distraction and Stannis felt ill again. The sea was not helping with its quivering, the act of which was getting to be stronger and stronger, as if an attempt by nature or the wind to force Stannis to feel something. He grumbled as he moved from the window, wondering if the boat has yet reached the shore or if Davos was still rowing. Melisandre promised quick and almost painless - for him, that is. She made no mention of the amount Renly would experience. Perhaps a great amount. Perhaps very little.

 

He remembered once many moons ago Renly falling as a little boy. He cut up his knee. No one else was around at the time, tending to Robert and _his_ needs. Stannis was forced to take care of his brother. He took him to a water basin and soaked a cloth in it. He held the wet cloth to Renly's wounded leg and it stung. Stannis could still vividly feel Renly's tears as Stannis held his leg, trying to minimize the amount of blood from the gash by keeping it motionless.

 

"Does this make me a soldier like you, Stannis?"

 

Stannis was mouthing the words in unison with his memory. Renly wanted to be like him once. Now he was trying too hard and didn't know when to stop. They were brothers once, too, now they only shared a name. It was nothing more than that. Stannis told himself it was nothing more than that, as if he needed reminding of the betrayal he felt from Robert, and the disappointment for Renly.

 

Davos was more a brother and family than either of them. He's stood beside him through everything. He's been there when he's needed him to be. He didn't cry when Robert died. He didn't even blink. The only time he reacted to his passing was when Eddard Stark sent word that that Joffrey child was not Robert's true son, but a falsity. A trick.

 

Melisandre should be killing _him_ , Stannis told himself. They shouldn't be wasting their time here with family reunions when King's Landing required more attention. It's where the real traitors lay.

 

"You didn't receive the wound in battle, Renly," Stannis told him. The little child in his recollection wiped at his face. The pain was still there but Renly could take it now, as if hearing his brother's voice calmed him.

 

"I was fighting spirits," said Renly. His child mind could see monsters whenever he liked, to fight or to befriend.

 

Stannis wiped at his tired face, too, in the present. He didn't want to think of anything so softening as this. Couldn't he find a better memory? One where he fought strongly beside Davos, or how he felt picking up the blade in the flames Melisandre conjured on the beaches? Not this. Not from so long ago he had less scars and death on his hands.

 

"I love you," Renly said, after Stannis fixed his knee as best a weary soldier could. That was the first time Renly ever said that to him. It was also the last. Baratheons aren't known for their affection, not even as children. Which is why Stannis never forgot that memory. It was out of character, even for Renly. He could always be sweet and smiling, but not to family. Not to each other. Their kindness was spared for others. It was unsure when that came to be, perhaps during the war, perhaps after, perhaps from birth and it only took a little while to stick. Stannis didn't particularly care. Details don't change the fact.

 

By now, Davos and Melisandre had to be at the shore. They were sure to have started what Melisandre promised to do. Davos was surely in fits, certainly confused. And Renly was...

 

"Stop thinking about Renly," Stannis told himself, fuming. He slammed a hand to a desk at his side, nearly breaking his fingers against the hard wood.

 

Stannis has always been a good soldier. He's always felt he could be a good king if time permitted. He never needed to think about being a good sibling. Who thought about those things? Who needed to? Who would _want_ to?

 

Here he was, though, thinking about it. As he sat on the edge of the desk, limiting himself to movement to avoid the clenching in his chest, he thought about his brother. He's thought more about him in the short amount of time he's claimed himself as king than he had the rest of his life prior. Robert gave him Storm's End, and he gave Renly life at King's Landing, and the gods or whomever gave Renly that perpetuating smile. Stannis was given a natural expression one once coined to be that of a lobster's, and Robert gave him Dragonstone. The Iron Throne should be his, not his brother's. By right, it should be his.

 

Renly was just a fool. He was lavish and a puppet being played with by the Tyrells and his own emotions. He didn't understand what he was asking for, what he was claiming. He didn't understand war, and never fought a day in his life, unless you count the nights he battled with Loras. Stannis knew.

 

He probably didn't even sleep near a weapon in case of danger, expecting his soldiers to fend danger off if it came to it. What a fool. What a-

 

Stannis barged out of his own cabin as if on fire, hurrying across the ship's upper-deck down to the main deck, to fish out a second boat to take out to shore. He pushed past a few men still out keeping watch to make his way to the last searching party raft available. He undid the straps himself, fending off a young man that tried to help. He would do it, himself. It would only go faster that way. Eventually it was ready to slip down into the water, but before he released he swung himself inside, and then let go.

 

When the raft steadied itself, the rocking contained, he grabbed the ores and rowed. The shore seemed to shrink farther and farther away the closer he pulled himself. He would curse to the Lord of Light if he didn't make it to the camp in time. Melisandre, he grumbled to the skies, hopefully was still mid-act of her own plan. He made haste and nearly broke his arms right out of their sockets with his speed and agility. The wind was kind to him and pushed him along, but it was still not enough to beat out time.

 

When Stannis was close enough he could see the ocean floor, he leap out of the raft and abandoned it in the water. He waddled to the sand and clambered up the hills, wet and heavy and desperate. Stannis couldn't place the last time he moved this face and it wasn't on horseback. The air was cold, frigid against his damp legs. Eventually Stannis made it toward the edge of the Rainbow Guard camp. No one even acknowledged he was an outsider, clearly the perfect set of men and soldiers to fight for the throne when they couldn't even spot an intruder in their ranks.

 

It was sufficient, however, for him in this moment as he ran towards the one he knew had to belong to his brother. It was the largest, with a guard at its entrance, although upon further inspection he noticed the guard was collapsed. He was dead. Slit at the throat.

 

Melisandre was here.

 

Stannis rushed inside and was met with a strange sight. Melisandre was not here, nor was Davos. Instead, there was a shadow of a being throwing Renly around the room. He took note of his brother's entry and looked, pointing as if to say something alongside the gesture. Instead, he was beaten again and flung across the tent to the ground. He didn't move to get up as he fell.

 

"Halt," Stannis demanded. He reached and grabbed at the shadow, expecting his hand to slide through it like fog.

 

The shadow was corporal to Stannis's touch. This information was almost shocking enough to halt Stannis's fight, but if he had he would have lost his head. It swung its bladed arm across the air, nearly missing the crown of his head. He barely ducked in time, nor reached for the hilt of his steel. His blade whipped the air as the shadow recuperated and turned, following his movement. Its target had shifted from the limp body on the floor to the strong man with a good sword in his hand.

 

Renly had taken quite a beating before Stannis jumped into the tent to save him. The furniture around the room was broken and thrown around. Sections of the tent's material, itself, were tattered. Renly's face was bloodied and his clothes ripped. His throat had been cut, but not deep. Stannis arrived to save him, but not fast enough to protect him. His foolishness still hurt Renly. It's possible he even died, as his body went unmoving while Stannis swerved and swiped at the shadow.

 

Stannis fought the shadow, their blades crossing and his anger rising. Whatever it was, why wouldn't it die? Why didn't it recognize him as the one who allowed its presence, and stop after seeing he no longer requested it? He struggled with the fight. No matter how strong and swift he was, it was stronger and swifter, an almost being brought forth by magik of some sort. It even strikes a resemblance to... him.

 

Stannis swept his blade across its arm and removed the smoke there, but it rebuilt just as quick as it went. He swung again at its legs, only to realize upon further examination it didn't have any. It was mostly a blob of blackness, with a head and two arms, but no details beyond that. It cast a strange reflection on him, not only having a face that faintly resembled his, but mimicking gestures and copied moves. It swayed when he swayed, forcing Stannis to be swifter on his feet than his feet allowed.

 

It grabbed him at the arm and stabbed his free hand when he struggled to move around it to check on Renly. He winced as he stumbled back a step, the jab icy at the touch and deeper than anticipated. The shadow had completely forgotten about Renly, but its new target being Stannis didn't please him as much as it should have. He stabbed at it again, catching its chest, but striking nothing significant. It was assumed it had no innards to bleed.

 

The woman soldier broke through the entrance at once, bewildered by the dead guard at the entrance, and then screaming at Renly's frame on the ground. She attracted the shadow's attention as she faltered to Renly's side. She spoke nonsense, but Stannis found use for it as the shadow turned to strike.

 

He ignored the pain in his one hand and exchanged the blade to it, then raised the steel to the sky and broke through the center of the shadow's body, and then again across the neck region. It dispersed at once, almost too easily. But Stannis ignored the questions building, instead moving to his brother's side, pushing past the soldier to catch his head in his hands.

 

"Go fetch someone at once!" He exclaimed. Her face was red and wet with tears and turmoil. He ignored that and repeated the statement at once. She was knocked out of her stupor to see his face, and how serious he was about her leaving, and at once she scrambled to her feet to leave.

 

Stannis pulled up Renly's head even further to his ear, to listen for breathing. He was met with faint air against his neck, and he nearly made a noise to express the feelings within, but it wouldn't be wise to.

 

"Renly," he sighed. Though badly beaten, he would live. So long as the shadow did not return, he would live.

 

The young man in his arm's now resembled the child who once proclaimed his love. He was of five years, clean-shaven, and small. Stannis could still feel the weight of the man, but he only saw the boy in his arms.

 

"Brother..." Renly gasped. He could barely utter a word, his chest most likely crushed by the thrashing of his body across the room.

 

"I'm here," was all Stannis needed to say. It was a strange feeling to be able to say it.


End file.
